Beast of the Sands
by Hey-Diddle-Diddle25
Summary: On an unfamiliar planet Ezra runs into a familiar face while shopping for supplies. Unfortunately for him.


**Guess who's back (coughcough it's Scar cough cough) with a touch of Zeb and Ezra friendship because there isn't enough of that out there, and I've started craving it like my newest drug. Unfortunately for my upcoming projects because there isn't really a chance to get that fix in. Badda bing, badda boom this little creation was born.**

 **It also got a little carried away but it's me so that's sort of to be expected because apparently I suck at time management and brevity when intended. That being said, I am rather pleased on how this one turned out and I hope that, despite there being an OC (like, seriously, what's up with that) you can find it enjoyable as well.**

 **Some things ya may need to know (if you don't already): a klick is a kilometer, which is an easy 1000 meters or .62 miles. It's a term the military, especially pilots, use. A yard is the standard 3 feet or 36 inches.**

 **Enjoy.**

* * *

It was all Zeb's fault really.

Except, no, that wasn't fair considering the big guy wasn't present through the worst of it, but Ezra's side ached something terrible and he's been in enough situations to know when he was in trouble. Lying there surrounded by rock certain that the rest of the crew had no idea that he was injured, he knew that trouble wasn't even close to the type of situation he's found himself in. _Again_.

Someone somewhere must really hate him, which kind of sucked considering he had no idea what he could've possibly done. Maybe in a past life, if those existed, but the thought didn't offer him any comfort. If anything, it only made it worst considering Ezra still hadn't technically done anything wrong yet there he was. Dying, probably.

"Come on baby Jedi," the rough voice of his company rasped as the figure knelt in front of him but all Ezra could see was his dark outline as a calloused hand cupped his cheek and practically pleaded, "This isn't how you're going to die, but I need you to _stay with me_."

Ezra blinked, though he knew his eyes had remained closed longer than open, before he forced a confident smirk he didn't feel to his features as he rasped, "Not going anywhere. Have to- have to tell Zeb-"

"You shouldn't talk," the figure hushed, oddly gentle but Ezra was so delirious that his brain didn't fit the pieces together quick enough to know why that would mean that something was wrong.

He wasn't even sure who the figure was. He knew he should, felt the urge to feel alert about everything around him, but he couldn't recall why. He just felt-

"Whoa. No. Eyes open baby Jedi. Eyes on me."

-tired.

"Don't wanna," Ezra slurred sickly, head tipping forward only to be caught before his chin got a chance to smack against his chest.

"I'm going to look at your side now," the voice told him, hand moving away so Ezra's head rolled on his shoulder before it continued, "Unless you want to protest yet again that you're fine, and that we should get moving before our new friend manages to track us down once more."

Protest? New friend? Again?

The words didn't make sense. They should- he knew- because they felt important, but the only thing his brain stalled on was that he didn't know where he was, who he was with or what was going on. He just knew that something had gone horribly wrong in ways it never should have.

"Baby Jedi?" the hands returned as they stroked his bangs from his forehead in a strange paternal way that felt entirely _wrong_ , "Ezra? Stay with me. I don't think your friends would like it if I let you die down in this stink hole."

"I- _friends_ ," Ezra repeated because the word sent a warm sort of jolt through his chest as the need to fight filled him once more.

"Yeah. Friends," the voice agreed as the hands pushed him upwards, Ezra's back pressed against something hard and solid as the bottom of his shirt was rolled backwards; there was a pained hiss before the voice continued with a suppressed panic that hadn't been there before, "Why don't you tell me about them?"

"I- no," Ezra protested as he gave a pained whine, muscles tensing against the wall he was pressed against.

"No?" the voice asked, obviously trying to sound casual, but Ezra could detect the unease.

"I-" his voice broke off as something white and hot and painful jolted against his side, causing his vision to momentarily blacken before clearing once more; a hand squeezed his face tightly while the other remained pressed against his side like it was the only thing keeping Ezra grounded.

Maybe it was.

Ezra could barely remember his name.

"I need you to stay with me," the voice commanded tensely, the hand gripping his cheek falling to his side as the force increased considerably.

"Don't think- going anywhere," Ezra grunted out between clenched teeth and there was a low breathy chuckle as the figure swooped closer to him.

"Remember that thought," the voice told him as something hard and leathery was forced between his teeth, "because this is going to hurt."

There was a _hissing_ sound followed by a bright blue hue, and something told Ezra that it should concern him. He couldn't remember why, though, which was what actually ended up concerning him. Then something pressed against his side, and all other thoughts left him as he realized that the voice hadn't been lying.

It _hurt_.

-:-

"What'd you just say me?"

Ezra blinked, because the sudden shift to something large and threatening caught him off guard. He leaned back and not just because they've been floating in space for almost a week now, and Zeb was starting to reek. Coincidently, that was where the whole issue began in the first place.

How was Ezra supposed to know comparing the guy to a Sarrlaac's breath was offensive?

So, maybe Kanan had a point when he told him that he still needed to work on the dos and don'ts when dealing with others. Ezra sort of wished he didn't blow up on the man at the time because Kanan never really said anything unless he felt it was important, and considering Ezra's spent the majority of his life only thinking on how he could take care of himself his need to shift into a more people pleaser was becoming increasingly more important.

Ezra was still adjusting to being a part of something bigger than just himself, and not just the rebellion. Whatever they were- a team, a family, or something else- it wasn't something Ezra was used to, and the constant critique on what they expected of him grated on his nerves more so than he'd like to admit.

Even still Zeb wouldn't act quite like this, his skin thick enough to deal with most of Ezra's words. The fact that they've practically been caged in together had the bigger male snapping quicker than Ezra's brain could've figured.

"I said," Ezra gritted back as he leaned forward on his toes, filling the same restlessness as Zeb, "that you smell as pleasant as the breath of a Sarlaac."

Zeb's hands fisted by his side as his muscles curled in an obvious attempt to not plummet Ezra's face in as he practically snarled, "You want to repeat that?"

"Why? Are you as dense as you are pleasant? Or did all Lasats smell as bad as you," Ezra tutted, finding strength in a confidence he shouldn't feel- not when Zeb was capable of snapping him like a simple twig.

Zeb's teeth ground together, jaw ticking in obvious anger, and Ezra realized that he possibly went too far. Kanan always said that if he wasn't careful- that if he couldn't keep his emotions in check- then he'd get himself in a situation he'd regret.

Ezra didn't regret making Zeb mad. The bright sheen shining in the corners of his eyes, signaling Zeb's inner pain, that Ezra immensely regretted.

He forced himself to relax, calming that temper Kanan hated so much. They couldn't really fault Ezra in having one, though, not when the majority of his life it had been the only thing keeping him alive, like it had somehow been linked to the primal instinct of finding food and water and shelter and just making it through the night so he could start again in the morning.

It was just the longer he's stayed with them the more stuff they're finding to pin his temper on, which wasn't really fair because all things considered Ezra was pretty tame. He still has the nightmares of running into some of the meaner kids that were forced to somehow make it on nothing but the streets.

The comment about a nearly extinct race, however, that was not only uncalled for but completely insensitive, and though he and Zeb didn't share the most sensitive relationship they mostly respected each other's boundaries.

"That came out wrong. I-"

"Save it for someone who cares kid," Zeb growled down at him, all angry lines and sharp edges as he twisted his body so he no longer had to face Ezra as he added lowly, "and you can go find yourself a new place to sleep for all I care."

"Okay," Ezra agreed with a firm nod and shallow, "Whatever you want, buddy. I just-"

But Zeb was no longer listening.

The _GHOST_ had jerked in that way it did only when they were about to land, and the thought of fresh air and finally being free of the same company was an almost overwhelming thought. Except Ezra still felt a little guilty and yearned to make it up to his friend- because regardless of how Zeb saw him he'd always be Ezra's friend.

"You want to know what I want?" Zeb suddenly asked and his voice had dropped several degrees as he still refused to turn and look at him, "Why don't you take the supply run?"

Ezra swallowed the protest- the response coming quicker than any knee-jerk reaction he's experienced- because it wasn't his turn. It was Zeb's, but since Ezra was still trapped in the feeling that he's gone too far and that he'd never be able to make this up to the older male he gave a firm nod.

"Okay," Ezra agreed, flinching when Zeb spun around to face him once more before he continued as he tried slipping past Zeb's girth, "I'll do it. I'll take this run. No problem. None what so ever. Just leave it all to me."

"Ezra-"

But Ezra was already gone and it wouldn't occur to him until later that the catch in Zeb's tone wasn't residing anger or resentment but surprise at losing the chore so easily because supply runs were the worst. That was why they had turns, rotating between each of them so it'd eliminate most of the nonsensical arguing.

They just didn't turn out as poorly as this one- not that it had been anything anyone could've detected or known about ahead of time. It would just go to reason later- when it was already too late to fix everything that had gone wrong- that it wouldn't have gone _as_ bad if it had been Zeb and not Ezra.

So Zeb's fault on that one, except Ezra had been the one who'd offered and he'd been the one who had started the argument before ending it too low for it to still be considered playful. He was just thankful no one had been around to witness it, or they'd willing throw him off the ship to teach him a lesson.

They hadn't been, of course, so when he walked into the cockpit proclaiming that he would be the one taking the supply run he was greeted with twin glances of confusion.

"Ezra, you did the supply run last time," Hera informed him like Ezra didn't already know- like he hadn't lived it- which, okay, might be a little bit understanding considering Ezra would make a big show of just how much he hated them.

He could do without the worried expression Hera and Kanan were sharing, and he certainly didn't need them to try talking him out of it because he might just listen. He was reluctant to share with them the argument he'd just had with Zeb, though, so he just forced a smile to his face as he shrugged good-naturedly.

"You know me," Ezra replied as innocently as he could force, "Always ready to help out in any way I can and supply runs are the best."

Kanan's teal eyes narrowed impossibly further as he gritted out warningly, "Ezra…"

Ezra's shoulders deflated as he realized that neither one of them were buying his act, and he had been kidding himself if he had thought they would. That was still fine. He could still work with their stubborn need to find concern in everything since their last mission with Java the Hutt.

Or the one before that when Ezra had nearly died alone in an arena atoning for something he hadn't even been alive to do.

"Don't look at me like that," he said instead because he hated the constant worrying as he slumped his shoulders and explained, "I just- Zeb's been having a hard time lately, and I thought I'd do him this. It's not that big of a deal, really."

Hera's frown instantly brightened as she practically beamed. Beside her Kanan still looked skeptical, which was to be expected considering they were linked in ways none of the rest of the crew were.

"That's really thoughtful of you Ezra," Hera gushed as she rose from her chair to gather the things he'd need for the supply run, "and it's a real sign of maturity. I'm proud of you. We both are, right Kanan?"

Kanan just shrugged at the question, eyes still narrowed on Ezra as he replied, "Yeah. Sure. Real proud."

Ezra matched his frown when he realized the look was less because of Ezra's guilt and more for Ezra's seemingly incapability of doing anything remotely mature. Unfair on Kanan's part because Ezra was only 15, and there was only so much one could ask of a 15-year-old.

Yet Kanan had somehow gotten the idea stuck in his head that Ezra needed to be held on ridiculously high standards because he was force sensitive and training to be a Jedi, and there weren't very many Jedi left. If there were still any at all.

"This it?" Ezra asked, turning his attention to the list Hera pressed in his hands and was pleasantly surprised by its size.

"Yeah. Unfortunately until we can get another job we're stuck with what we can afford," Hera affirmed.

Ezra gave her an easy smile as he tucked the list in his backpack, shoving the feeling that something wasn't right back down. _It was just guilt_ , he told himself, _about what he'd said to Zeb._

"You'll have to be back before sunset," Kanan informed him when Ezra turned to leave, and the way he said it indicated that the reason went beyond the usual 'the crew wouldn't have a choice but to fear that you've stolen another tie fighter or something' and it had Ezra turning back around to eye his master for any hints of the reason why.

Unfortunately Hera had noticed as well and something Ezra didn't recognize flashed across her features as she ushered him out the door with a simple, "But that shouldn't be a problem. You still have six good hours of sun left."

"Okay," Ezra replied slightly dazed as he allowed her to guide him towards the loading dock before he offered one last smile at Kanan and asked, "What could possibly go wrong?"

Famous last words.

-:-

It had started off well.

As well as the unbelievably dull chore could. Normal at least but that didn't make him feel any better, though the more distance he created between him and the ship the more the unsettling feeling grew deep in his gut.

There was no way to explain it so he chalked it off as guilt despite the voice in the far recesses of his mind screaming at him to listen. Danger was nearby, and he needed to turn around and tell the rest of the crew that they couldn't stay there.

The fact that he couldn't reason that to himself much less Hera or Kanan prevented him from turning around and doing just that. A week ago he would've done it without question because everyone was still wary on letting Ezra wonder too far without supervision, but after his constant reassurance that he was fine and capable of taking care of himself they've mostly backed off.

So Ezra didn't turn around as he shoved the ominous feeling deep down to his toes where it couldn't bother him. He pulled out the list careful tucked away, quickly skimming over the objects before he glanced out towards the market as he tried discerning the best course of action.

Making a quick decision he bounced from booth to booth as he crossed off the smaller items Hera wanted as he tried staying on the cheaper side of things, which was great because Hera wasn't wrong when she had told him they were broke. Not that Ezra was surprised considering they hadn't taken a job since the whole Hutt disaster.

He'd never stopped to consider that there might be a really good reason for that.

"Hey you little rat, you planning on paying for that!" a loud angry voice demanded behind him, making the skin on his back crawl as the familiar urge to run and hide before they could catch him sent tremors down his knees.

"Here you go," the merchant across from Ezra said, drawing his attention back to him.

Ezra gave a thin smile as he accepted the proffered item before he turned to see what the sudden commotion behind him was. A girl several years his junior with matted hair and dirt stained skin was being held by a broad shouldered merchant with a nasty snarl spread across his features.

It wasn't very hard for Ezra to fill in the blanks from there, after all the scene was as familiar to him as the panic building up in his stomach.

The girl was terrified and more than a little embarrassed at being caught. She jerked back, flailing around as she tried freeing the angry grip on her arm. She was speaking too, but the language was foreign to Ezra.

"I asked," the merchant demanded in a frighteningly booming sort of tone as he drew her closer to him; two burning coals were peering down at her as the merchant's voice dropped to a low growl, "how were you planning on paying for that?"

The girl made several squeaky noises as she tried pulling away, but it was obvious that she wasn't getting away. And no one seemed ready to jump forward to help her.

"Hey!" Ezra called because he's had these sort of nightmares before; he still had scars from when he'd been younger and more ambitious.

The merchant gazed at him unimpressed, and Ezra swallowed thickly because the same face had beamed at him not thirty minutes before. Now it was all pinched up and furious looking and Ezra felt small and insignificant for the second time that day as he sank back on his heels.

"What?" the merchant demanded with a narrowed expression; his prisoner staring up at him with bright pleading eyes, and Ezra knew he wasn't going to be able to just walk away like nothing was wrong.

"I'll pay for it," Ezra offered before he got a chance to think about what he was doing or how Hera was going to react when she found out he was spending all their credits on seemingly frivolous things.

The merchant released the girl, who didn't even glance at Ezra as she scrambled away. He saw her disappear in the crowd before a hand yanked at his forearm tightly as he was jerked forward. His attention was forced upwards, and his stomach dropped as the face peered downwards at him.

"You better have your credits on you _boy_ ," he growled and Ezra nodded as he pulled out the remaining credits he had stored away, fingers already sorting through them.

The merchant snorted as the corners of his mouth twitched upwards as greedy hands snatched the money from Ezra's hands. It was too much, Ezra knew, for what she had tried stealing and the realization had him bending forward in protest.

"You look familiar," the merchant interrupted whatever Ezra was about to say, and Ezra felt his stomach drop as the hand released his arm with an abrupt, "Go."

Ezra nodded as he stepped backwards before he decided to cut his losses and head back to the _GHOST_. Hera would understand, he told himself as he spun in the direction he was partially sure he came from and started towards it.

He almost made it too, but his curiosity could be as much trouble as his temper if not more so. He's almost certain that the majority of problems he finds himself in started with him being overly curious about issues he really shouldn't be.

He hadn't even caught most of the conversation, just the last 'I better head home or I end up being victim number sixty-four" part. That didn't matter, though, because he had heard it and consequently made his ears itch as he realized this could have something to do with Kanan's warning.

"You sure you can make it back in time?" the other person asked with knitted eyebrows and tense frown as they added almost as an afterthought, "Rumor says that its growing restless. That it's started coming out earlier than the sunset."

Ezra frowned as the first guy laughed, waving his hand dismissively.

"Rumors also say that it's gotten braver, but how could anyone possibly know? It doesn't exactly leave any survivors."

A beast-monster that leaves no survivors? Why hadn't they shown up earlier to help out? After all, Ezra was mostly certain that if they were able to stop it then the award from grateful townsfolk would be immense and most of their problems would be momentarily solved.

Something snagged on his sleeve before giving a firm tug. It was strong and caught Ezra off guard, but it wasn't enough to do much more than shock him from his thoughts. His body did tilt slightly backwards and he had to catch himself before turning a confused glance behind him.

It was the street girl he'd just rescued from being publically maimed or worst.

Despite himself he allowed a fond smile cross his features as dark eyes peered into his, a small frown marring her otherwise attractive features. Now that they were close Ezra could see exactly just how tiny she truly was. Narrow shoulders. Thin hips. Protruding cheekbones.

"Hello there," he greeted as friendly as he could manage, "I'm Ezra. What's your name?"

She didn't respond verbally.

Instead she reached out to tug on his sleeve once more before turning in the opposite direction of the _GHOST_ or the rest of its crew. Her head tilted back, expressive eyes staring back at him expectantly.

"Lead the way," he offered quickly catching on, swallowing the unease that mounted when they started down on of the more narrower less crowded veins of the market.

He wasn't concerned about her jumping him. Even without the force he was confident in being able to fight her off, and it wasn't like he had anything of value on him. Except his lightsaber, which he carried everywhere, but to most children it appeared as appealing as a Hutt's bathroom.

It wasn't until he heard the familiar voice was he able to reason why every instinct in his body was screaming at him to run the other way, and by then it was already too late.

"My dear Skyla," Scar's rattling rasp boomed in the suddenly too narrow pathways, causing Ezra to jerk his hand free before he could place any reason to it; hands engulfed his shoulders in a steel grasp as Scar's voice continued, "What did you bring me today?"

Ezra pressed against the body holding him, yearning to break free and run back to the ship and yell at Hera until she got them lightyears away from this place. Away from _him_ because nothing ever good happened when Scar was around.

It was like fighting a mountain, and it just yearned him a harsh shake before Scar stepped into view. The girl- Skyla- whimpered slightly but she stood beside Ezra like he was a prized catch. The expression that suddenly bloomed across Scar's face signified as much.

Ezra glared, trapped, as Scar stepped towards them. The trader wasn't paying him much attention, though, as he tilted his head towards the cowering girl. A flare of something hot and protective swelled in Ezra's stomach as he jerked forward in the hold.

It didn't do much but he narrowed his eyes all the same as he growled lowly, "Stay away from her Scar."

He meant it too, and he was silently impressed with how bold it had come out. Scar, on the other hand, just burst out in that nerve rattling laugh of his. It made Ezra cringe, folding further in on himself as he tried to escape the sound. Skyla did as well but the next moment Scar was jerked her back closer to him.

"My dearest Skyla," Scar cooed taking her face in his hands and mushing her cheeks together, "it almost pains me to see something so wonderful as you go. It truly does, but alas, a deal is a deal," he released his hold and said in a slightly more threatening tone, "Go and if I see you again there's no guarantee I'll be as generous."

Nervous eyes flittered over to where Ezra was still being held and he motioned for her to leave. She gave a slight nod before scurrying past him for the second time, her echoing footsteps eventually dying from behind them.

"Ah. Children," Scar hummed like an overworked proud parent as he focused back on Ezra, "Wouldn't you agree baby Jedi?"

"Agree on what?" Ezra asked in an annoyed tone, "That you're a creep that takes advantage of those younger and weaker than-"

He was cut off by a hand to his throat.

Surprisingly enough, the hand didn't belong to Scar.

"Talk like that to our captain one more time," a heavy voice challenge, fingers squeezing in promise of what would happen to him if Ezra didn't comply.

Ezra wasn't really in a complying mode so bummer for them. Double bummer if they actually thought they'd be able to kidnap him (again) and do who-knows-what. He barely survived the first time.

Then again, so did Scar.

"I see you've got yourself a new set of lackeys," Ezra gritted out past the hand clamped over his throat as he narrowed a furious gaze back on Scar's thoughtful expression, "I wonder how long these'll last you."

Scar spat at his feet, eyes darkening considerably as he no doubt recalled how he'd lost his crew the first time. Then again by a completely random run in with Ezra in a secluded bar, though Ezra did have his suspicions on just how un-random that one had been.

The hand clamped together in a tight fist, causing black spots to race across Ezra's vision before it disappeared altogether. He refused to sag as he gulped in precious oxygen, narrowing his gaze on Scar and the trader that had just tried crushing his windpipe.

If Scar hadn't intervened he would've crushed Ezra's windpipe.

"You still have that mouth of yours," Scar noted as casually as old friends getting together after a slight parting, "Good. I think I like that best of you."

"Glad to know you're still my biggest fan," Ezra snorted back, the hands holding his shoulders squeezing so tight Ezra was certain he'd have bruises later.

That is if he got out of this with his life still intact.

Grounding the backs of his teeth together he forced himself to pay attention to anything except the bone crushing weight pulling at his shoulders. Unfortunately that didn't leave many options and he was stuck gazing up in the two black voids that were Scar's eyes.

They still sent shivers down Ezra's spine as his body screamed at him to run because somethings were just not worth it.

"Care to explain what you're doing here?" Ezra demanded through the pain, figuring that if he could strike a conversation it would be distracting enough for him to come up with an escape plan.

"You can run," Scar suddenly offered as he peered seriously back at Ezra, "You won't get very far. Not in what little sun you have left."

 _Oh, right. The monster._

How could Ezra have possibly forgotten about that?

"It's not you?" Ezra demanded because in some way that _could_ make sense; except it so clearly wasn't if the indication of Scar's face was anything to go by.

"'Fraid not," Scar tutted with a slight sigh and regretful shake of his head, "and before you ask, no, it's not why I'm here either. I was here on business when that _thing_ ate my ship."

Ezra blinked at the words, mind reeling on the possibilities _that_ meant. It made him dizzy, chest aching as he thought of something large enough to eat an entire ship. It also opened up the possibility that-

"You've seen it?" Ezra scoffed with a narrowed frown as he added, "And survived? When no one else had? Talk about a bummer-"

The hand was back at his throat, angry and squeezing and more than a little uncomfortable. The sudden lack of oxygen was certainly doing him no other favors either.

"You wanna finish that little boy?" the voice challenge, coals burning somewhere the backs of their eyes and _how did someone like Scar get such loyal underlings anyways?_ It just didn't make sense.

"I'm good," Ezra grunted.

The correct answer, evidently, as the hand released his throat and stepped back. The eyes never left him, seemingly focused on him and him alone. Scar had his own frown, head tilted to the side like Ezra's words just _barely_ lacked understanding.

"All I saw was a totaled ship and lots and lots of teeth marks," Scar corrected so Ezra figured they hadn't been around when the thing got ahold of their only escape of this place, "and no one will fix it because their afraid it might come back for seconds."

"So you're trapped and, what, spending your time harassing random children off the streets?" Ezra demanded because something in this puzzle wasn't quite fitting together, and he was determined to figure it out.

"Harass?" Scar gaped like the mere concept was too much for him as he wailed dramatically, "You wound me. I do not harass. I demanded favors."

"From children?"

"From children's parents. Or in most cases, legal guardians, and I'll have you know that it's worked perfectly. I mean, sure you'll get the occasional orphan or runaway but a couple of well-aimed threats and severed limbs usually fix that-"

The words had barely comprehended in Ezra's mind before he jerked forward. Hands caught him easily, keeping him from launching himself on top of Scar and ripping the guy's face off with his hands.

"You hurt children?!" Ezra cried incredulously suddenly not caring if Scar's bodyguards choke or him until he couldn't remember what color the sky was; all that he saw was Scar's unfazed expression as he watched Ezra flail in the tight hold.

"Baby Jedi you need to understand that it isn't anything personal," Scar reasoned with a casual shrug, "it's-"

"Business? Yeah. I'm so sure," Ezra snorted before his voice dropped several degrees colder and he practically snarled, "You're a monster Scar, and Kanan has the right to hate you."

"Hate is such a strong word, no?" Scar reasoned sounding bored as he waved his hand in front of him as he added, "I prefer conflicting interests. Or-"

"Lying, double-crossing no-wood murdering swindler," Ezra growled out, eyes burning in his fury and it truly was a shame looks couldn't kill.

Or, he supposed, they could if he tried really hard with the force but then he'd be no better than Scar and there was _no way_ that he was going to let that happen.

Scar at least looked offended as he tutted like one would a disobedient child, "Has anyone ever told you to watch your mouth because words hurt, baby Jedi. Just not as much as this."

Something jabbed itself in the crook his neck, sending jolts of electricity through his frame as a strangled cry escaped his lips before blissfully nothing.

-:-

Six hours later and he still hadn't returned despite the fact that six hours should've been ample enough time, and they should've seen the kid trotting back to the ship hours ago. Not that Kanan was worried or anything because Ezra could find trouble, but he couldn't find _that_ much trouble without the rest of them around.

Right?

"He should be back by now," Hera stated agitatedly beside him, green eyes narrowed in angry thought and Kanan knew that was because they both knew that Ezra wouldn't willing stay out later than necessary.

No matter what type of fight he had with Zeb before he left.

It must've been quite a spectacle if it had Ezra willingly taking the supply run. Not that he would know considering when he tried to approach the older male about it Zeb just grunted something about not wanting to talk about it as he disappeared in his room.

Kanan hadn't pressed because his usually vibrant eyes looked oddly sad and almost vacant. Kanan also knew that it wasn't because of Ezra though the boy must've somehow convinced himself that it was.

"You're right," Kanan agreed thinly, turning his attention towards her before he rose to his feet and declared, "I'll go search for him."

"What? No. You can't do that Kanan. The sun's already started to set," Hera protested as she rose to stop him and very few could get between him and those he cared for and get away with it.

"We don't really have another choice Hera?" Kanan huffed because they were running out of time; Ezra had had plenty of time when he'd left and now it was running out.

A hand caught his chest when he made another attempt to leave in search for his missing padawan. The thought of something terrible happening to the kid had his chest twisting painfully. Ezra had been wrong, thoughts of losing the kid _again_ were too much too soon.

"We always have a choice love," Hera protested but her eyes betrayed what she really thought even as she added softly, "We always do."

"Ezra's been gone over six hours, and he has an irritating knack of finding trouble," Kanan protested, concern putting an ill placed edge in his tone.

Hera's mouth twitched upwards at the trouble comment as she replied soothingly, "I know, and we'll find him."

"How?" Kanan asked, shoulders deflating as he forced his tension from them.

Before Hera got a chance to reply the door slid open, and Zeb strolled in. He looked better than the last time Kanan had seen him as bright eyes glanced around the room as he sought for something that wasn't there.

"Have either of you seen the kid?" Zeb asked as he focused on them with a tight frown, "I think we need to talk."

About what they need to talk about Kanan didn't know, and he really didn't care. It wasn't his business. Ezra on the other hand-

"He hasn't returned," Hera informed him, her voice coming off as unconcerned and casual but Zeb wasn't an idiot and he's older than all of them.

They just have a tendency to forget that.

"It's getting dark and this planet-" Zeb started to protest before something made him stop as he said instead, "but you two already knew that. Shouldn't we be out looking for him?"

"We can't Zeb," Hera protested, but Zeb was already moving.

"Zeb!" Kanan and Hera called as they followed him towards the loading dock; it was Hera who jumped in front of him, hand splayed against his chest as he pushed back.

"Zeb, we can't. It's too late," she informed him and Zeb actually looked moments from hitting her.

He didn't, of course. He just gave a bone-weary sigh, shoulders deflating as most of the tension ebbed from his muscles.

"He'd do it for us," Zeb argued in a defeated tone.

Hera looked away, her face haunted with the decision she has to make in order to keep everyone else safe. It was hard, Kanan knew, and some part of him was thankful someone still had enough sense to push everything away and actually think.

It was Ezra, though, and sense never did well when it came to him.

"I know," Hera practically breathed.

-:-

Someone was slapping him.

Ezra groaned, curling his face protectively against his chest as he tried escaping the harsh hand. The hand just followed him, all demanding and needy, and he let out a low whine of confused protest.

"I think you need to wake up now baby Jedi," a familiar voice informed him as the hand found his face once more, and Ezra bolted upright as something electric and frightening shot down his spine.

Scar barely managed to dodge Ezra's head as a loud cackle filled the small space they must've drug him too. It was dark, a dull naked bulb offering a faint glow directly above them and from what Ezra could make out they were in a supply closet.

"Where'd you take me?" Ezra demanded as he craned his neck around to take in his surroundings, a familiar hole growing in the pit of his chest as he folded a fist over his chest and added, "What'd you give me?"

"Ah little baby Jedi, I think you already know," Scar proclaimed as he leaned back on his haunches so he could regard Ezra with the dark pits of his eyes.

Ezra frowned at his words because he might not know the name, but he was all too familiar with its effects. The creeping loneness was the sudden disappearance of the force, leaving him cold and shaky as he backed himself up against the wall.

"What're you doing Scar?" Ezra demanded with a narrowed expression and locked elbows as he forced himself to remain calm.

"Me? I'm surviving," Scar informed him with an innocent expression and slight shrug as he regarded him with a strange look.

"By hurting children?" Ezra challenged as he choked on the anger building inside of him, filling the void the force had left.

Scar gave him a scrunched up expression as a frown marred his features and he replied, "I think we can agree that you're no ordinary child, no?"

"I wasn't talking about me," Ezra snapped, hunching his shoulders so he could glower at the trader past the mass of hair dangling in his face; he knew it didn't make him appear very threateningly, but it wasn't like he's got a chance to groom it while constantly on the move.

Scar's expression narrowed slightly before recognition lit his expression and a bright gleam shone in the corner of his eyes as he murmured thoughtfully, "Ah. You're still upset with me about dear Skyla. Can you blame me? I do what I must to survive."

"You hurt people. That's not surviving," Ezra protested nearly choking in his rising fury, "It's just outlasting everybody else because you don't give them a chance."

It came out as an accusation, which in many ways it was. It wasn't all it was, though because Ezra was still able to remember a time where he acted much the same way. That had been before Kanan, of course, and everyone else who'd help him see that a life built only for one person wasn't a life at all- not one worth living.

The words didn't seem to even faze Scar as he gave a slight shrug and retorted with a broad expression, "We say the same thing in different ways, I think."

Ezra blinked back, the words sticking somewhere in the back of his mind as if he was incapable of processing their deeper meaning. Before he got a chance to say something more the door opened, allowing a rectangular box of light to climb the floor and wall. The sudden shift from dark to light made Ezra's eyes hurt as he blinked, lifting a hand to guard his face.

One of the lackeys Ezra had met earlier in the alleyway stood from the other side. His eyes flickered briefly towards Ezra before focusing on Scar, still crouched down in front of his prisoner and because of that Ezra could see the look of annoyed resentment flicker across the trader's expression.

"What?" Scar demanded without looking to check who it was.

"Just wanted to inform you that there's been a sighting 5 klicks from here," the lackey informed; Ezra narrowed his gaze on him, not believing that he's a pilot, recalling once on how Hera explained how pilots have their personal diction.

Scar's expression twisted in his annoyance as he spun to face the lackey as he snarled, "Well, what would you like me to do about that? You know the rule."

The lackey seemed surprised by Scar's sudden anger, shoulders tensing as one of his boots stepped back. He didn't bolt even though he seemed to know what was about to happen.

Ezra hadn't or he would've done something other than just sit there and watch.

Quicker than should've been possible Scar reached to the back of his belt, yanking out his blaster and shooting the lackey before him. The lackey's foot stumbled further, crumpling under the dead weight as the limp body tipped backwards.

" _No_!" Ezra cried as he jerked forward like that would be enough to intercept and stop what had just happened.

Scar didn't seemed to notice as he lowered the blaster by his leg and finished in a cold brittle tone, "Don't interrupt me unless it's absolutely necessary."

"You're a monster," Ezra ground out, on his feet and puffed out like a cornered animal; his eyes were stuck on the dead lackey lying in the hallway.

Then Scar turned back to him, and everything inside him seemed to bristle defensively.

His eyes seemed darker than they usual did, the corners of his eyes folding upwards as a toothy smile beamed back at him. It was sharp and dangerous and immediately squashed the fire that had nearly engulfed Ezra.

Ezra stumbled backwards when Scar approached him, smile never leaving his face. Something caught against his back, trapping him as Scar planted his hands by his head and leaned so close that they were practically touching.

"Monster is such a relative term, don't you think?" Scar hummed, blaster still dangling from his hand as the trader's entire body caged Ezra against the wall.

Ezra swallowed thickly as he felt a spark from his previous anger relight as he forced with a furrowed expression, "You're a murderer, Scar. A lying son-of-a-bantha that's incapable of feeling anything for anyone that's not _you_."

Scar stared back with a guarded expression, eyes dark and empty, before he blinked and the feral expression smothered out to something familiar- something Ezra could've been able to relate to if not for the blaster suddenly pressed firmly against his temple.

"And here I thought we're finally started understanding each other baby Jedi," Scar tutted as he seemingly settled back into the persona Ezra's become so familiar with.

"You trying to convince me that I'm wrong?" Ezra asked, refusing to back down from a conniving murderer.

There was a long tense moment where nothing moved, what little breath Ezra had catching in the back of his throat; the blaster was pressed so tight against soft skin Ezra knew it was going to leave a mark, and some part of him screamed at him for allowing his mouth to run faster than his brain.

 _Again_.

Only this time it was going to get him killed.

Then Scar burst out in a hearty laugh, the blaster disappearing as his body stepped back. Relief swelled somewhere in his chest, but he didn't let it show. He just couldn't allow the trader to know that he'd gotten to him, scared and intimidated him.

So he kept his spine stiff and his blue gaze locked onto Scar, watching as the older male moved away to stand in the center of the room. He looked as normal as he'd ever become, which frightened Ezra more than he thought.

"I knew there was a reason I liked you," Scar informed him before pointing the blaster back at him as he added, "and that's the only reason I need to kill you. A pull of the trigger, it'd be so easy. So painless. More than the Empire would ever offer you."

Ezra remained still, eyes shifting from Scar to his weapon as he waited for the inevitable. His only regret would've been leaving on such a rotten note with Zeb.

Scar shrugged, blaster going limp in his grasp once more.

"I'm not though," Scar proclaimed with something lingering underneath his gaze, "Unfortunately for you I'm not going to kill you."

Ezra didn't speak- anything worth saying sticking in his throat- as Scar turned to leave the closet. The lackey was still sprawled on the ground, earning nothing more from Scar than a rough kick in the side. It was then, staring at the heartless treatment- even then it wasn't overly complicated.

"Why?"

Scar didn't turn around to face him. He just tilted his head back towards him, blaster practically dangling from his loose grip. When he spoke his voice was soft, holding very little emotion in it.

"I don't know baby Jedi. I do not know."

The door slid shut with an ominous hiss, what little strength keeping Ezra upright dissipating from him at the sound.

-:-

It was dark, and Ezra hadn't returned.

Zeb couldn't differentiate which was worst: knowing of the legends of the monster in the shadows or the fact there was something getting people when the sun dropped and Ezra's yet to return. With some thought he figured Ezra not returning was the worst.

They never said it- Zeb tried really hard not to emote too many emotions in case people got the wrong idea- but the kid had come to mean something like a little brother to him. Annoying and whiny on the best of days and 10 times out of 10 totally unbearable.

He had a kind heart and he was smarter than most others gave him credit for. Brave, too, facing more fears then Zeb ever dreamed of having at that age and incredibly loyal to them and their cause. A cause he hadn't been overly involved in beforehand.

And now he was missing.

Hera had locked the ship down, blocking anybody from going out in search for him. That would've peeved Zeb if he didn't catch glimpses of her worried frowns and drawn expressions, and he knew that taking care of the crew over Ezra was killing her.

And- for the future record- it was completely coincidental that Zeb overheard any conversation between her and Kanan regarding their missing member.

"What do you mean you can't sense him?" Hera demanded, cold and clipped and so clearly losing it as Zeb imagined her pacing in tight worried trails.

"I mean just that," Kanan supplied surprisingly collected, "it's like the kid just dropped off this side of the galaxy."

"So he's-"

"Still alive," Kanan's voice soothed, allowing air to reenter Zeb's lungs as he released the breath he hadn't even been aware he was holding.

"But he no longer has the Force?" Hera asked skeptically and Zeb felt his own confusion swim in with hers because nothing about Jedi or the force ever made sense to him before he'd grouped himself with two of them.

"Not just that," Kanan supplied with a heavy hum, "Something's suppressing it from him. Something unnatural."

Zeb didn't stay around to wait for the ending of their conversation, mind already on the one other time something like such has happened and if it was anything like last time than finding Ezra needed to become concern number one.

He stopped by his room for his staff, strapping it over his shoulders securely, before he went to the hanger before Hera or Kanan could realize what he was doing.

"Where do you think you're going?"

He jumped, spinning around to face a pensive looking Sabine. Her face was drawn in a tight expression, eyes droopy with her concern. She'd been edgy when Ezra failed to return, just more reserved about it.

"I'm going to get Ezra," Zeb explained turning back around, "and I need you to distract Hera and Kanan until I'm far enough away."

Sabine gazed back at him critically, folding her arms over her chest as she demanded, "But you're for sure that you can find him?"

"Yeah," Zeb replied softly, dipping his head downwards, "I'm for sure."

That had been all she needed to hear, giving him a gesture that could only be interpreted as ' _go and find him_ ' before she turned to face the others. He gave her a brief smile, tightening his grasp around the strap over his chest before disappearing out the door.

He really should've been paying better attention to where he was stepping.

-:-

Scar came back when the ground beneath Ezra's feet started quivering violently. He had jumped to his feet in shock a split second before the door opened with a metallic whoosh, and despite the circumstances Ezra was thankful they'd moved the body from the hall.

"Come with me baby Jedi," Scar said without his usual preamble, "We're moving away from here."

"What? Why?" Ezra demanded even as he moved to join Scar out in the hall, the ground shaking once more under their feet once more.

"We're under attack," Scar explained, grasping his bicep as he jerked them both down the hallway, "As it turns out that that nothing earlier was actually a something."

The ground jerked.

Ezra stumbled, only Scar's grasp around his arm keeping him upright.

"Move faster baby Jedi," Scar snapped, jerking him further along roughly and Ezra swallowed back a protest he felt bubbling in the back of his throat.

"What's going on?" Ezra demanded instead because this was obviously a very big something and Scar had shot someone thinking it hadn't been anything he needed to worry about.

Kanan might actually kill him this time, if Scar didn't beat him to the task first. He wasn't sure which he'd find worst because at least with Kanan he'll die among friends. Scar probably wouldn't even blink, and the sudden thought that Scar could be leading him to a trap had Ezra wrenching his arm free as he jerked himself to a stop.

Scar skidded to a stop before him, soulless eyes fixating on him impatiently. Ezra refused to show any free, not even when the vibrations of the ground increased as if whatever was causing them was nearing, and it wasn't like he could reach out to it because the Force was being suppressed from him.

If they both manage to survive this one Ezra might just kill _Scar_ , that'd be quite the twist no one would ever see coming.

"Baby Jedi, we don't have time for this," Scar protested reaching out to grab him once more but Ezra kept himself distanced, refusing to be drugged around anymore by the trader.

"Not until you explain what's going on," Ezra snapped back, eyes bright and defiant as he narrowed a glare at the trader.

The ground quivered under their feet, snatching most of the heat in Ezra's words. Scar's eyes flickered around them nervously.

"We don't really have time for that-"

And then everything happened really fast.

There was a loud crunch of metal crumpling as easily as paper as something imploded from behind where Ezra stood. Ezra spun around, startled, and he caught a glimpse of sandy white fur and pointed white teeth before Scar jerked him back down the hall.

"That _thing_ behind us is what's going on," Scar explained as he shoved Ezra through a door and down a flight of stairs as he continued, "It's already killed the rest of my men, making us the only two left."

"I don't understand," Ezra replied dumbly, "What is it?"

"The locals call it Zemo, the beast in the shadows. It only attacks at night and is as ferocious as it is deadly. It usually stays outside and doesn't take down entire households," Scar filled in as they burst into the crisp night air, large holes Ezra hadn't remembered before spotting the soft earth surrounding Scar's tenement.

"So what's changed?" Ezra demanded, Scar jerking him in the direction of the closest hole.

It was huge, the diameter easily 5 yards and Ezra swallowed at the murky blackness that lay underneath it.

Scar gave him a pained look as he asked, "Do you really want to know?"

Ezra didn't even want to know what the thing had been but considering it'd just broken habit he considered it a need of survival. After all, an unknown enemy is an undefeatable one.

"I don't think it appreciated my business," Scar explained cryptically before he jerked towards the hole with a sharp command to climb down the hole before he started down, shadows swallowing him whole.

Ezra stepped back, shaking his head in protest because he was almost certain the Zemo-thing had created those and there was no way he was climbing into its home. That was practically asking for death. In hindsight, he should've listened to Scar.

Something roared behind him, close, and he spun in time to see a ball of fur and claws as a fire ignited in his side. He stumbled back, hugging the earth with closed eyes as Scar's hand gripped onto his arm and jerked him the rest of the way into the hole.

That's when Ezra realized two things: his side was bleeding and that the holes hadn't been created by the Zemo.

Then Scar released his hold on the hole's lip, dropping them close to 4 yards before Ezra hit ground once more. His legs crumpled under the sudden weight, a pained cry escaping his mouth. Scar was immediately at his side, hands poking and prying at him from the dark.

"I'm fine," Ezra grunted at the unasked question as he demanded, "What just happened?"

"It won't take long before our friend catches up to us. The holes slow it down but not for long," Scar explained and Ezra could feel him rise up to his feet as he added, "Here."

Even without the Force Ezra caught the stone thrown at his head easily in the darkness. He flipped it over in his palm, thumb stroking the smooth surface curiously.

"What is it?" Ezra demanded before there was a soft click, the stone lighting up in the palm of his hand; he nearly dropped it in his sudden shock.

"Cool, isn't it?" Scar asked with a knowing smile before he moved down the long tunnel stretching in front of them.

Ezra scrambled to his feet, ignoring the dull pain in his side, as he followed closely after the trader. He wrapped his free arm over his stomach, each step becoming increasingly harder, but he refused to show weakness so he continued without much protest.

That didn't last very long.

"How's your side?" Scar asked as he slowed down beside Ezra, and it was almost embarrassing just how slow that was.

"'M fine," Ezra slurred, hand clutching protectively around his middle as he thought back to that stupid fight he'd had with Zeb several hours prior.

"Really? Cause I don't think you are," Scar declared brazenly and Ezra furrowed his brow, the words clogging his brain and he wish it'd all stop.

"No one asked you," Ezra snapped back testily, quickening his stride as he moved further down the tunnel as far from the trader as he could.

Unfortunately for him, his body had other plans.

He stumbled, body tipping forward as he momentarily lost grasp of reality. All he could think about was Zeb, and how this had been his fault. Only it hadn't, not most of it. Not _this_ part.

The argument, though, that had totally been Zeb's fault.

-:-

 _"_ _Come on baby Jedi._ _This isn't how you're going to die, but I need you to stay with me."_

 _"_ _Not going anywhere. Have to- have to tell Zeb-"_

 _"_ _You shouldn't talk..._ _Whoa. No. Eyes open baby Jedi. Eyes on me."_

 _"_ _Don't wanna."_

 _"_ _I'm going to look at your side now. Unless you want to protest yet again that you're fine, and that we should get moving before our new friend manages to track us down once more."_

 _"_ _Baby Jedi? Ezra? Stay with me. I don't think your friends would like it if I let you die down in this stink hole."_

 _"_ _I- friends."_

 _"_ _Yeah. Friends. Why don't you tell me about them?"_

 _"_ _I- no."_

 _"_ _No?"_

 _"_ _I-"_

 _"_ _I need you to stay with me."_

 _"_ _Don't think- going anywhere."_

 _"_ _Remember that thought because this is going to hurt."_

-:-

Zeb hadn't even seen it until he was tumbling inside the inky darkness, body swiveling in the air before he managed to right himself and land on his feet. Rocks crunched softly underneath his feet, smoothing under his weight and he blinked confusedly.

 _What-?_

There was static too, buzzing around him and making his comm link crackle in a way it rarely did. Sabine had been meticulous in ensuring that they'd be able to reach each other anywhere in the galaxy. Apparently, they could still use some work.

Not that that mattered. Not with Ezra still missing, a monster lurking around the planet as it waited for its newest victim, and if there was one thing Zeb knew that where there was one trouble Ezra was prone to be there also.

So brushing himself off Zeb started down the lone tunnel as he hoped that he'd manage to find Ezra before the monster did.

-:-

Ezra woke cold.

Blinking bleary eyes opened he realized that last part was because Scar had stripped him from his shirt, ripping the fabric into long orange bandages he'd wrapped over his still burning wound. Two specks of yellow-green light glowed softly at his thigh on his injured side, his lightsaber beside that.

He shivered, involuntary, and Scar's heavy jacket was soon draped over his shoulders.

"Sorry about your shirt," Scar's soft voice apologized and Ezra licked his lips, mouth shockingly dry; something shuffled to Ezra's right as Scar continued, "and I'd hate to rush you after something that just happened but unless you want to try for round two we really need to go."

Hands clamped underneath Ezra's armpits, jerking him up to his feet and Ezra groaned lowly in the back of his throat.

"It's alright baby Jedi. I'll be right here the entire time," Scar promised, swooping down to pick up the littered items keeping the lights but offering Ezra his lightsaber back.

Ezra snatched it back, clutching it close to his chest possessively.

A million questions perched themselves on Ezra's tongue but the only thing he managed out was a soft, "Why?"

Scar just shrugged, shoulders rising and falling amongst the darkness as he took Ezra's weight back against his side and explained, "You're changing me kid."

"In a good or bad way?" Ezra inquired, eyes still heavy and tired but there was a sense of urgency that had him moving as swiftly as his body would allow.

"In the worst way possible for someone like me," Scar replied instantly, without a moment of hesitation or preamble and Ezra blinked in shock before bursting out in a bubbly sort of laugh.

Scar remained silent at his side for a long moment, the noise of their boots crunching earth under their feet being the only sound for a long moment. Then Scar released a gentle chuckle, and somewhere amongst all the fog Ezra knew that the sound was wrong. That Scar wasn't capable of compassion or humor or even the tiniest thread of tenderness.

Yet there he was, leading Ezra down the tunnel supportively.

"You know it's funny," Scar admitted after a long pause, "You're changing me in ways I never thought I could. I saw my mother kill my father, knew she would've killed me if I hadn't beaten her to it. Then I took my budding frustrations out on the rest of the world and tried so hard in taking out the brightest lights there are."

Ezra frowned, the confession making him uncomfortable.

Scar continued heedless of Ezra's feelings, "And then I met you and, at first, I'd thought you'd be the easiest sell yet. The easiest death because I hate Jedi almost as much as I hate my parents, and they're both dead. You… you're different."

Ezra's head rolled down so he was blinking at his shoes as he asked wearily, "In a good or bad way?"

Scar chuckled as he clarified, "Depends on who you ask, I suppose. On one hand you're brighter than any star I've ever seen before, so bright and determined and I'd seen a fire in your eyes that surprised me for the first time in almost eight hundred years. On the other hand the same fire was wild, untamable, and if I was capable of emotions I'm sure I would've been afraid of it consuming everything."

Ezra blinked down at his shoes.

He certainly didn't feel a fire raging within him. He just felt tired and his body hurt and he knew that if he ever got out of this one then he'd sleep for the next week. He just needed to survive.

"And then what?" Ezra inquired because he was sapped and curious and something told him that he wanted to hear the end of this.

"And then you did the one thing no one had ever done before- you showed me compassion. True compassion, not the ones other Jedi had tried pulling off before they'd been ripped apart from the inside," Scar filled in and there was a dip of his head as he added, "and it sparked something inside of me and I started feeling again, and I need to hurt others to numb that."

"You shouldn't," Ezra protested before something in the darkness suddenly shifted, swinging at the both of them.

Scar shoved him to the ground, Ezra crying out in pain as something long and solid connected with the side of Scar's head sending the rocks scattering. Then a body was crouched beside his, large familiar hands taking in his smaller frame.

"Ezra?" Zeb's worried voice probed from the darkness and Ezra let out a thankful chuckle as he curled in the bigger male's embrace.

"I don't think I've ever been happier to see you before in my life," Ezra admitted lowly, setting his forehead against Zeb's breast.

Zeb let out a lose chortle, large protective arms folding around Ezra's back as they held him securely in place. Ezra let them, the sensation of _safe_ and _home_ filling him for the first time since their argument.

"I'm sorry Zeb," Ezra apologized into his chest, "I didn't mean- I hadn't wanted-"

Zeb shushed him, hand folding around his head, as he reassured quietly, "I know. I'm sorry too. Just- try not to give me anymore nightmares like this one."

Ezra's face split into a bright smile as he promised, "Deal," then he frowned as he asked softly, "What about Scar?"

The arms disappeared, as did most of Zeb's warmth, as the older male spun to confront the trader. Only when he turned to where he'd struck him, Scar was gone.

"Karablast," Zeb cursed softly, "I swear the next time I see him I'm going to kill him."

Ezra just grinned sleepily as he hummed, "Next time," before he shivered, pulling Scar's jacket further around his small frame.

Zeb's face softened in the light as he hefted Ezra to his feet, glancing around them nervously before he declared, "I think it's time to get you back to the GHOST, kid."

Ezra gave a slight nod as he murmured, "I second that plan. It's a good plan."

And Zeb gave a fond chuckle as he ruffled Ezra's hair, hefting him on his back before walking them both back to the closest thing Ezra's ever had to home and later, when Ezra was alone for the first time, he would stare up the ceiling and thought over Scar's words.

He rolled over on his side, curling the blanket further over his chest as he promised silently to himself, "Next time."

* * *

 **So some post-thoughts I'd like to share with you guys because despite all of your wonderful words the conversations always come a little flat because, hello, they're one sided since I don't have a way of conversing back. This is my attempt of alleviating that some, and just so y'all can get an idea of where I stand on this because it literally came out of nowhere.**

 **Firstly, I think I've fallen into 'create an OC and fall in love' hole because Scar's seriously addicting. He's not the first character I've ever created but he's definitely one I've put a lot of consideration and thought in considering I originally thought he was growing too soft too quickly so I morphed it around a bit so he's literally killing people. An effective quick method that proves that a character means business and it's best you don't step too far in their path. Unfortunately for dear sweet Ezra Scar has an unhealthy obsession over him.**

 **And then there's Ezra, who has grown a lot on the show (thanks Disney, doing the hardest part for me) because he'd seriously been a little brat but now he's as protective as he is strong and he's getting stronger (dangerously so). He also cut all his hair off, which I did not approve because I'm a sucker for long hair but I digress. A thing I'd wished they'd shown more but didn't was how despite growing as a person Ezra should definitely retain some negative traits from his time being an orphan- lack of filter being one of them (and a major point in this story). Thoughts?**

 **The Zemo monster is also something I've completely made up, which is whatever. Next I'll be naming planets and a whole galaxy separate to canon. _Seriously_ guys, I need help. So much help, it's ridiculous, but I love all of you and am happy at being able to share my passion (writing) with you guys.**

 **All feedback welcome. Until next time, may the Force forever be with you.**


End file.
